


Feline Fatale

by roe87



Series: Bucky as a D.C. heroine au [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Batman Returns AU, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Has Cats, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Catwoman Bucky, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, First Dates, First Meetings, Flirting, Happy Ending, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Shrunkyclunks, Shy Bucky Barnes, Smut, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, Top Steve Rogers, meet awkward, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: Bucky Barnes is an executive's assistant. He is shy, timid, and no one tends to notice him.That is until his boss, Alexander Pierce, catches him snooping around one night and murders him for it.Except, Bucky doesn't die, he's saved by some kind of miracle.Now he has to juggle two identities: Bucky Barnes, shy assistant, who gets asked out on a date by a nice man named Steve Rogers... and his alter ego, a masked cat-man who's out for revenge, fighting on rooftops with that meddlesome do-gooder Captain America.Some say cats have nine lives. Bucky's just begun his.





	1. Curiosity Killed The Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sizna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sizna/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Crow-Sizna! Thank you for being so awesome and such a support to me! I hope you enjoy this cat-tastic au. <3  
> ~
> 
>  **Note for readers** :  
> Rated Explicit mostly for violent themes. Violence is constant (it's a Batman movie au) but is brief, and not graphic, in my opinion.
> 
> This fic is a bit darker than my 'usual' themes, just a heads up. Please read these notes for warnings, if you want to!
> 
> If you haven't seen the movie Batman Returns (rated PG-13) and are at all concerned about themes of: canon typical violence/action, temporary character death (very brief, blink and you'll miss it), amnesia and implied split personality, plus villainous clowns, then I'd suggest reading the movie plot [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Batman_Returns#Plot) for more info.
> 
> Or you can leave a comment if you have a question, and I shall answer you.
> 
> Also, you know I like my happy endings, so I hope you'll trust me with this fic :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~
> 
> Thank you so much to Frostbitebakery and Stucky4Breakfast for encouragement and beta help! <3
> 
> ~

_New York, 1992_

 

 

It was the holidays, with Christmas looming, and Bucky Barnes was still at work.

He was relatively new, and it wasn't like he was _important_ or anything, just the personal assistant to Alexander Pierce, head of Pierce Enterprises, and Pierce was in a late board meeting with the Mayor of New York.

It'd all been very hush hush, right before the Mayor was supposed to head outside into the square with Pierce and light up the Christmas tree for the press.

Bucky'd had suspicions about Pierce Enterprises since he'd started working for the company and, being curious by nature, he wanted to know what they were talking about inside the boardroom. So, he made a fresh pot of coffee and entered the private room.

He walked quietly around the table, pouring coffee for each of the men while they argued about Pierce's new power plant proposal. The Mayor told Pierce he'd have to go through the regular channels for it, but Pierce didn't want that, he wanted it fast-tracked.

Very interesting, Bucky thought.

Pierce caught his eye and Bucky thought he'd get told to scram, but Pierce checked his watch instead.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we have a tree to light."

With that, they all got up to leave. Bucky thought he'd gotten away with snooping, and tried to melt into the background holding the coffee pot.

Pierce paused as he passed him, and gave Bucky a cold look. "Barnes," he said quietly.

"Yessir?"

"If I need you in a meeting," Pierce said, "I will call for you. Understood?"

"Yessir," Bucky replied, looking down at the floor. "Absolutely, sir."

"Good." Pierce swept out of the room, and left Bucky on his own.

Bucky let out a breath in relief.

Seriously, he had to be more careful. Pierce seemed to actually enjoy firing people, and Bucky really needed this job. The last thing he needed was to get fired at Christmas.

 

 

Bucky only realised that Pierce had forgotten his speech notes until he was almost done tidying up the office.

"Shit," he muttered, picking up the papers and grabbing his coat.

If he hurried, he could get downstairs and into the square, and try get the speech to Pierce before they lit the tree and addressed the crowd.

Pierce was sure to blame him for forgetting his own notes. Bucky didn't want to get fired over something so stupid.

"Shit, shit," Bucky hissed, as he went down in the elevator. He put his coat on, because it'd been snowing on and off all day and it was damn cold. He didn't go out the main entrance, as there were still holiday shoppers in the downstairs department store. Bucky went to a side entrance that led to a loading bay, and he hurried down the dark alley.

When he came out on the square, speech notes in hand, he got a shock when someone screamed nearby. Bucky jerked in surprise, saw people fleeing all around him and slipping around in the slushy snow. Clowns on motorbikes chased them down, while another clown on a unicycle rode around juggling fizzing bombs.

Bucky dropped the speech notes and turned back to the alley, but a big clown waving a dead fish was running toward him, screaming, his red nose blinking on and off.

"Shit," Bucky gasped, and took off in the other direction. He slipped on the snow-topped sidewalk, bumping into other people trying to flee the scene.

Sonic blasters went off overhead, and Bucky looked up to see Iron Man fly past, aiming his blasts at the clowns to take them down.

Two of the bystanders cheered, but Bucky didn't stop, he kept running.

He just _really_ hated clowns.

Bucky ran through the square, dodging people, clowns, and flying objects. He almost slipped in the ice but managed to grab onto a lamp post. That's when Bucky saw a flash of red, white and blue knocking down three clowns at once.

Holy shit, he thought, watching the scene, it was Captain America.

Bucky had never seen Captain America up close, and he'd had no idea how _big_ the guy was. Captain America threw his shield, taking out two clowns on unicycles, then caught the shield neatly as it flew back to him.

Bucky didn't mean to stare, but he couldn't help it. Captain America noticed him, and took a step toward him.

Unfortunately someone else must've noticed him too, as Bucky was suddenly grabbed from behind by a large man.

Bucky gasped, shocked to stillness. He didn't want to die, especially not at the hands of renegade clowns. Whoever held him had a strong grip, and brandished a small black device in front of him.

"Take one more step, Cap," the clown threatened, and pointed the weapon to Bucky's face.

Bucky saw a flash of electricity and heard its crackle: he figured it must be a taser or something.

Great, death by clown _and_ taser.

Captain America stared back calmly, then tossed his shield somewhere far out of Bucky's vision.

The clown scoffed. "What was that supposed to do?"

Captain America smiled, and his square jaw and eyes were the only parts of his face not covered by his mask.

Bucky felt a _thud_ as the shield slammed into the clown that held him, and he went down. Bucky was left standing on his own, albeit on shaky legs.

Captain America retrieved his shield, and looked Bucky in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Bucky nodded in awe, staring at the Adonis of a superhero. Even with a mask on to obscure his face, it was easy to tell Cap was a total hunk.

"Wow," he breathed, " _the_ Captain America. Or, is it just Cap?"

Captain America gave him an awkward smile, then hurried away.

There was still a riot going on, clearly he had to go help more people. But it still stung as Bucky was left staring after him like an idiot.

"Um, your choice, of course!" he called, but Captain America had gone.

Bucky sighed.

"Well, that was brief," he muttered to himself. "Just like all the men in my life." He turned to the clown at his feet, still passed out on the ground. "Then again, there's you, but I'm not really into clowns, so..."

Bucky spotted the little handheld taser laying in the snow. He got his glasses out of his pocket and bent down. He slipped his glasses on as he examined the taser. "Interesting."

He side eyed the clown, still passed out cold.

"Well, you were gonna do it to me," Bucky said, and touched the taser to the clown's side. He pressed the button and the clown's body jerked with a buzzing noise.

Bucky pulled the taser back and snickered to himself.

"I'll hang onto this," he said, putting the taser in his pocket.

 

 

~

 

 

Bucky let himself into his apartment and switched on the lights.

"Honey, I'm home!" he called, shutting the door after himself. He dropped his bag and shrugged off his coat.

"Honey?" Bucky walked through the apartment, and smiled when his black cat came running out the bedroom. "Hey, honey," he cooed, bending down to pet him. "How's my handsome boy? Huh? You been a good boy?"

The cat meowed, then ran off to the kitchen.

"Oh, hungry, huh?" Bucky followed him, and set out a dish of cat food, and a very small amount of cat friendly milk from a bottle. "What a treat, huh," he said, leaning against the counter as he watched his cat chow down. "Aren't you a lucky boy."

Bucky gazed at the pile of washing up still to do in his sink. It felt weird coming home to such mundane little things when he'd been in the midst of a riot just an hour ago.

And, of course, got rescued from a madman (well, mad clown) by a bona fide superhero. The star spangled man himself, no less.

Who hadn't looked at Bucky twice, which was... kind of disappointing.

Maybe Cap was straight. Maybe he was just busy? Hardly the time to try chatting up a superhero, right? In the middle of a battle ground. Not that he'd probably stop to talk with someone like Bucky anyway.

His cat meowed softly, bringing Bucky out of his thoughts. "Hm? What's that?" he replied, and let out a sigh. "How can anyone be so pathetic, you ask? Well..."

He walked through the kitchen to his lounge area, and pressed the button on his answering machine.

"Let's see if anything else exciting has happened today."

His messages played: two from his mother, the first complaining that Bucky wouldn't be coming home for Christmas, and the second insulting his career choices. Next, a message from Pierce Enterprises advertising a new perfume that was guaranteed to get his boss hot under the collar.

Bucky frowned at that. Why was he getting perfume ads? Was this because the marketing department had him down as Miss Barnes by mistake, or something? He'd already told them once.

Then again, maybe if he wore perfume, men would pay him more attention. Bucky was willing to try most things.

He went through to his tiny bedroom and opened the closet to take down his wall bed.

"Hey, Bucky," the next message began, "about that Christmas getaway we planned..."

It was John, the guy Bucky'd been on a couple dates with recently. Bucky dropped everything and ran over to his answer machine with a grin.

"I'll be going alone," the machine said, as the smile fell from Bucky's face. "My boss says I need to make an impression on the shareholders. Sorry."

Bucky pressed the delete button on his machine, and sighed.

Why was he even surprised, seriously.

"The party never stops on Bucky Barnes' answering machine," Bucky murmured, leaning against the wall.

The next message played, and it was Bucky's own voice: "Hey, Bucky, this is yourself calling..."

Bucky slapped both hands to his face and groaned.

"...reminding you that you have to come all the way back to the office," the message went on, "because you forgot that file for the meeting tomorrow."

"Shit," Bucky said, and hurried to gather his coat and bag again. "Shit, shit, shit."

 

 

~

 

 

Bucky went back to the office, and up to the executive floors.

He picked out the files he needed to prepare for the meeting tomorrow. Someone called Steve Rogers was coming to meet with Pierce about the proposed power plant. Either he was investing, or he worked for the city.

Bucky was all alone in the office, and felt curious. He dug around in the open files but couldn't find all that much about the power plant.

So, feeling brave, he logged onto the computer and opened the protected files by guessing the password first try.

"That was easy," he muttered, and began reading through what was there.

Bucky had no idea it'd be anything _bad_ , and wasn't prepared for the information he read.

He certainly wasn't prepared for Pierce to catch him reading the protected files. Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin when he realised Pierce was standing behind him.

"Oh! Oh, M-mister Pierce," he stammered.

Pierce's eyes bore into him. "What're you doing?"

"I-I, I'm just getting ready for your meeting tomorrow," Bucky said, trying to play it off as nothing. "Just, uh, all is looking good."

Pierce watched him closely, then looked at the computer screen. "And you accessed my protected files?"

"Um..." Bucky looked at the screen, then back up at Pierce. "Was I not supposed to?"

Pierce smiled, and it wasn't kind at all. "What did you read?"

"Um." Bucky swallowed, and he really wished he hadn't left that little taser at home.

Pierce moved closer, and Bucky stood up, trying to look brave.

"You know what curiosity did to the cat?" Pierce said, still moving closer.

Bucky backed away. "I-I'm no cat," he said. "Look, I mean, I wasn't going to say anything, but if you're going to try intimidate me, I could go to the press about this. You can't just build a toxic power plant and not face any kind of consequences, you know."

"Really." Pierce stared him down, backing him into the wall.

"Okay, go ahead," Bucky said, his voice shaky. "Intimidate me, bully me if it makes you feel big." His back met the wall. "I mean, it's not like you can just kill me."

"Actually," Pierce smiled, "it's a lot like that."

Bucky couldn't breathe, thinking his goose was well and truly cooked.

Then Pierce started chuckling. "You should've seen your face," he said.

"Oh." Bucky exhaled in relief. "You know, for a second there, you really had me going."

"Come here," Pierce said, setting a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I want to show you something."

Bucky allowed himself to be led to the window. Pierce opened it, letting the cold night air blow in, and asked Bucky to take a look at the skyline where he wanted to build the power plant. Bucky did, with Pierce at his back.

Bucky wasn't expecting the shove, and couldn't believe what was happening as he tumbled from the window.

The wind rushed around him as he fell, and he screamed. His arms flailed, trying to catch onto something. He fell thirty storeys, crashed through awnings and landed on the hard, snowy ground of an alleyway below.

Bucky hurt, he hurt all over. He wasn't sure if he was dead or alive, and he drifted in and out of sleep.

When he next opened his eyes, he was still laying in the cold alley, and was covered in cats.

The physical pain had gone, and Bucky slowly sat up. Cats walked all over him, meowing and nibbling at his fingers.

Absently, Bucky pet one cat on the head. "Good kitty," he said, slightly slurred.

 

 

~

 

 

Bucky wasn't sure how he'd gotten home, he felt pretty dazed. He let himself into his apartment, with stray cats winding around his feet and rushing in past him.

"Honey," he rasped, "I'm home."

He switched on the lights, blinking blearily at how bright they were. Bucky moved slowly, like he was sleepwalking through his routine. He shut his door and shrugged off his coat, now covered in dirt and snow.

He went to the refrigerator and got out the cat milk, pouring some into the cat bowl. The scent spiked in his nose, and Bucky gave into the urge to drink the milk himself. It spilled over his mouth and down his throat as he guzzled it.

Lots of cats were in his apartment, mewing plaintively and watching him. Bucky knew they were there, but he wasn't bothered by them. They were oddly comforting.

He walked to his answer machine and replayed his messages. When his mother's voice starting complaining that he hadn't called her, Bucky deleted her message, and tossed the empty milk bottle over his shoulder.

The next message that played was from Pierce Enterprises, taunting him with promises of late night dinners with his boss if only he wore their brand of perfume.

Something lit up inside Bucky, igniting all the rage he'd tamped down for so long. He let out a primal scream and grabbed the answer machine, bashing it against the wall repeatedly.

He hated that machine. Absolutely hated it, and hated all the people who left shitty messages on it too.

Once the machine was well and truly broken into bits, Bucky went next to his bedroom and just punched things. He ripped a painting off the wall and broke it over his knee. He turned over his dresser, broke all his ornaments.

The plain blue and grey bedding he had that was so regular and boring, Bucky ripped to shreds and left his bed bare. Then he went to his closet and threw things around until he found something interesting: his old motorbike leathers.

Bucky stared at the black leather in his hands, and had an idea.

 

 

~

 

 

Bucky had loved motorbikes. He'd even had all the leathers for it, though he hadn't had a chance to wear them much before lack of money and not enough time meant he had to sell his old bike.

The leathers had sat in his closet ever since.

Now, Bucky put them on. The black leather was soft and buttery to the touch, a sensation he'd always secretly loved. He did up the buckles and the straps, and pulled on the biker boots too.

There had also been matching gloves, with reinforced knuckles. Bucky took them down from the shelf inside his closet, and something else caught his eye. The bag of old Halloween costumes, most of which had never been worn because, well, Bucky'd never had the nerve, nor had he been invited anywhere to wear them out.

He grabbed the bag and tipped it upside down, spilling the contents on the floor. Nothing but cheap, silly things. Bucky moved the objects with his foot, and uncovered a black domino mask, its edges turned up at the corners to look like cat ears.

Bucky bent down to pick it up. He'd never worn this, had only bought it online on a whim. Bucky slipped it onto his face, had to untie his messy hair and let it hang loose.

Then he stalked over to his mirror, peered at the person staring back at him. This guy looked like he meant business, Bucky thought. _This_ guy would get noticed.

Bucky smiled slyly, and went to his window. He opened it up, and without even thinking what he was doing, he stepped out onto the fire escape and climbed down.

Bucky had always been terrified of heights, but now it was a breeze. He jumped down and landed in the alley below, feeling invigorated and alive.

As he rose up, he noticed a motorbike parked across the street. Curious, Bucky went over there, and circled the bike as he trailed a gloved finger over its curve.

"Meow," he murmured, wishing he could ride it.

He'd need the keys.

"Mmm," Bucky purred, and swung his leg over the bike so he could straddle it. The saddle was nice and soft. Bucky traced his hands over the handlebars, humming softly. He wrapped his hand around one of the wing mirrors, and pulled it off with a snap.

Bucky tossed the mirror over his shoulder, and looked around the street to see if anyone was about.

He had to pull off the next wing mirror before a window in a nearby apartment block opened, and some guy stuck his head out.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Get off my damn bike!"

Bucky smiled and sat back, waiting.

Eventually the guy, a young biker type, came barrelling out of his building, brandishing a baseball bat.

"Get the hell off my bike, you freak!" he warned, swinging the bat.

Bucky lounged on the bike like it was his, silently willing the guy to come closer. As he came in swinging his bat, Bucky struck out with his leg, kicking him square in the face.

The man fell to the ground, bat clattering down beside him.

Bucky stood up gracefully, and went over to nudge the guy with his foot. "Hm, that all you got?" he taunted.

The man only groaned, clearly dazed. Bucky got bored of him quickly, and started searching his pockets.

"Aha," he said, pulling out a set of keys. "Thanks. I'm borrowing your bike now."

He left the man in the dirt and got back onto the bike, turning the key in the ignition. The bike roared to life, and Bucky laughed happily.

"Purrs like a kitten," he said over his shoulder, then kicked the stand free and let go of the throttle, taking off down the street.

He pointed the bike toward the city, no real location in mind but Bucky knew one thing for sure: he was gonna go fuck some shit up.

  


 

 


	2. Wild Ride

 

 

Bucky drove into the east village and ditched the motorbike. He knew it could very likely be tracked, so he left the keys in the ignition. Someone was sure to take it for a joy ride.

He was already in the neighborhood for gay bars, not normally somewhere he'd go late at night.

Or, _ever_ , really. He'd been a couple times, but being an introvert at a loud bar was tough.

Tonight, Bucky stalked down the street and scoped out the lines of people waiting to get into the hot new club in town, all dressed up and waiting like idiots out in the cold.

Bucky considered his options: he had no money on him to get into the club. Not even his wallet. So, he'd have to get money.

He slipped down an alley, trailing his hand along the wall of the building. Bucky was looking for prey. All he had to do was wait: this close to all the nightlife someone unsuspecting was bound to wander into his path sooner or later.

He loitered by a dumpster, and a stray cat popped its head out to meow at him. Bucky smiled, and petted the cat.

"Pretty boy," he murmured. "Who's a pretty boy?"

The cat rubbed against his gloved hand, purring happily.

Only a short while later, three figures stumbled into the mouth of the alley up ahead.

Bucky grinned. Payday.

He put a finger to his lips to shush the cat, leaving it by the dumpster. Then he hurried along the alley, close to the wall.

It was two guys up ahead, shaking down a smaller, third guy. Presumably trying to mug him: the guy looked young, dressed in designer jeans and an expensive jacket.

Bucky stepped in before they roughed him up too much.

"Two against one?" he chided, stepping out of the shadows. "What brave men you must be."

The two thugs looked over at him with nasty expressions, and one of them lumbered towards Bucky, flicking out a switchblade.

Bucky stood his ground, clenching his fists. "Be gentle," he said, "this is my first time."

The man made to lunge at him with the knife, but Bucky high-kicked him to the face. The man dropped the knife, dazed, and Bucky kicked him again.

He went down easily, and Bucky turned to the one remaining man who watched with his mouth open.

"Wanna try your luck?" Bucky teased, stepping closer.

The man dropped the kid, and ran.

Bucky scoffed, disappointed. He walked towards the kid he'd saved who gasped in relief.

"Oh, my God, you saved my–-"

Bucky grabbed him by the face and shoved him up against the wall. "I bet you've got more money on you than both those creeps put together. Hands up where I can see 'em."

"Oh-okay!" he stammered, and raised his hands.

Bucky held him firmly with one hand and used his other to pat down his pockets. No wallet, no cards, but a small wad of cash. Bucky pulled it out, glancing at it briefly. A roll of twenties.

"It'll do," Bucky said. "Now go home, kid. Before you get in real trouble."

"Y-yessir," he stammered, sliding down the wall as Bucky released him. He ran away when Bucky walked off.

As he passed the dumpster again, he found the same cat and tickled him behind the ear.

"If you're still here when I'm back," he whispered, "I'll take you home with me."

The cat mewed, and Bucky smiled at it.

Then he headed out the other end of the alley to the night clubs. He stalked to the front of the queue and discreetly flashed a few twenties to the bouncer, who let him through the velvet rope.

Bucky slipped the money into the bouncer's jacket with one hand, while lifting the wallet out of his back pocket with the other.

It was easy, effortless. Bucky didn't have to think about it before it was already done.

He was let into the club, into a dark and strobe-lit world of writhing, dancing bodies. Bucky walked past the dancefloor, ordered a white Russian at the bar.

"Hold the vodka, hold the Kahlua," he said.

The bartender smiled at him, clearly smitten, and set the drink in front of Bucky. "Cream," he said. "Straight up."

"Mmm." Bucky drank it down in one, then licked his lips as he eyed up the other man. "How much?"

"If you take my number, it's on me."

Bucky smiled slyly. "Make me another, and I will."

He had a second drink, then left with the bartender's number scrawled on a bit of paper. Bucky screwed it up in his hand and dropped it onto the floor as he walked away. He gave into the temptation to dance, rubbing himself against any willing body.

Some of the club goers were dressed up, and Bucky gravitated to a couple in shiny black. One held a rolled up bullwhip, and the other had claws on her gloves.

Bucky wanted the claws, and he wanted the whip.

He flirted with the pair, and exchanged the items for a roll of cash and a credit card that he'd swiped from the dancefloor. He took his prizes and left the club, stalking down alleys looking for a car he could borrow.

  


When Bucky woke early in the morning, he was home and in bed, with absolutely _no_ memory of why his apartment had been turned upside down. Nor why there was a strange tom cat sleeping in his bed, and several more cats snoozing in his living room.

His own cat was sleeping on the couch between a big ginger tom and a tortoiseshell cat. Bucky raised his eyebrows. "Making the most of the visitors, I see," he muttered, tripping over his trashed belongings all over the floor in his bare feet. "What the hell..."

There was a pile of discarded black leather on the floor, along with a cat's mask and a whip.

Bucky didn't have time to figure it all out, he had to leave for work or he was going to be late. He put lots of food down for all the cats, and got dressed for the office, wondering why there was a cut on his forehead, and many more cuts and bruises all over his body.

What had happened to him?

 

 

~ 

 

Steve Rogers read through the local headlines on his phone as the town car took him into the city.

Multiple reports from all over the east village last night of theft and fraud by a man in a cat mask. Steve shook his head reading it. Looked like New York had yet another masked menace to deal with.

Like they didn't have enough on their plate with renegade clown gangs, or villains plotting to take over the city every other week.

The town car dropped him off in the Christmas tree square. Steve put his phone away and adjusted his tie. He didn't really like wearing suits, but he had a meeting to go to.

He picked up his briefcase and said goodbye to his driver (well, the Stark Industries driver), and headed into Pierce Enterprises. Steve went through the main entrance into the bustling department store, and followed the direction he'd been given to get upstairs via the executive elevator.

Alexander Pierce himself came to greet him when the elevator opened on the top floor, which Steve hadn't expected.

"Mister Pierce," Steve said, offering his hand to shake. "We meet at last."

"We do indeed, Mister Rogers," Pierce said, giving him a smarmy smile. "This way, please."

He led Steve down an art deco style hallway and into a grand office.

"I would've had someone come and meet you," Pierce said, shutting the door after them, "but my assistant is using up his vacation time."

"Good time, too," Steve said, setting down his coat and briefcase. "Shall we get right to it?"

"Please." Pierce gestured to a seat at the table, then headed around to the head of the table before he sat down. "I'm pushing this power plant now, because it'll cost more later. I've invited several leading industries to invest in it."

"Yes, I know," Steve said, opening his briefcase. "I also know you're trying to fast-track it."

Pierce smiled, and steepled his fingers. "Any problem with that?"

"Several, actually," Steve said calmly. "On behalf of the city council, I've had a report drawn up from multiple environmental agencies, and planning sources. Thought you might want to take a look at it." Steve tossed the thick report across the table, pleased he made Pierce visibly jump when it landed on the desk.

"New York City has a power surplus," Steve went on. "I'm sure you know that already, Mister Pierce. My question is, what's your angle?"

"Power surplus?" Pierce scoffed, not even picking up the report. "Really, Rogers. There's no such thing. One can never have too much power."

"Well, I'm gonna fight you on this," Steve replied. "I've already spoken to the Mayor, and we see eye to eye."

"Mayors come and go," Pierce said with a shrug. "Blue bloods tire easily." He got out of his chair and began walking towards Steve. "You think you can you go fifteen rounds with Alexander Pierce?"

Steve stayed seated, merely curious at this point. "I guess we'll find out."

Pierce stopped just in front of him, sizing him up. Steve didn't expect it to get physical, but there was something creepy about Pierce. He was clearly trying to be intimidating.

Steve slowly got to his feet, and said very calmly, "I've lived in this city a lot longer than you have, Mister Pierce. And I'll protect it from anyone I think doesn't have the best of intentions for New York and its people."

Pierce huffed lightly. "I'll not stand for mud-slinging in this office. If my assistant was here, he'd have already escorted you..."

The door of the office opened, and they both turned to see a young man walk in.

"Anywhere he wants," the young man said, with a slightly glazed expression. "Preferably some nightspot, or secluded hideaway?" He stopped and leaned on the desk, looking Steve up and down very obviously. "Nice suit."

Steve stared at him in surprise. The young man's dark hair was loose, hanging about his shoulders in waves, but Steve still recognised him: he'd saved him from that clown with a taser just last night.

"Barnes," Pierce said, sounding somewhat surprised. "Barnes..."

"Mm, that's my name," the man, Barnes, replied, looking Pierce dead in the eye.

Pierce actually looked away, seeming flustered. "This is, this is Steve... Rogers."

"Yeah, we've met," Steve said, without thinking.

Barnes turned his grey-blue eyes to Steve, quietly assessing. "Have we?"

Steve realised his mistake straight away. "Oh, you know what, I mistook me for somebody else. Sorry."

"You mean, mistook me," Barnes said.

"Uh." Steve blinked at him, distracted by how handsome Barnes was. "Isn't that what I said?"

An amused smile played on Barnes' plush lips. "No, I don't think so."

Steve needed a distraction, and as Barnes had a rather large band-aid across his forehead, Steve gestured to it. "What happened?"

"Did you injure yourself on that ski slope?" Pierce said quickly. "Is that why you cut short your vacation? Came back?"

Barnes opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then paused. Steve waited, even Pierce waited.

"You know, it's a blur," Barnes said, looking only at Steve. "I mean, not _complete_ amnesia. I remember Sister Mary Margaret puking in church, and Becca saying it was morning sickness. And I remember passing my driver's test on the first try. But last night... _complete_ blur." He shrugged, and looked at Pierce. "Couldn't you just die?"

Pierce managed a weak smile in response, and croaked out, "Barnes, please... show out Mister Rogers."

Barnes turned a warm smile to Steve. "With pleasure." He slipped a hand inside Steve's arm, and Steve was so taken with Barnes' smile that he began to walk away without his things until Barnes said, "Your coat, Mister Rogers."

"Oh." Steve paused to grab his coat and briefcase, then allowed Barnes to escort him out of the room.

They walked arm in arm down the hall, and for once Steve didn't mind being manhandled out of a building quite so much.

"You don't seem like the type who does business with Mister Pierce," Barnes said quietly.

"No," Steve replied. "And, if you don't mind my saying, you don't seem like the type to take orders from him."

Barnes let out a breathy laugh. "Well, that's a long story."

They reached the elevator, and Barnes released Steve's arm to press the call button.

Steve decided to take the plunge. "I could free up some time?" he offered.

Barnes smiled at him as the elevator doors opened, and he ushered Steve inside. "I'm working."

"Holidays, though?" Steve tried, as the doors started to close.

Barnes shot him a flirty look as he walked away.

Wow, Steve thought, as the elevator took him down.

 _Just... wow._  


 

~  
  


 

Bucky got home that night with lots of extra cat food from the store, and he could've sworn there were even _more_ cats in his apartment than when he'd left.

"Shit," he muttered, as he put nearly all of the food down and looked around at all the mess. Most of it caused by himself, apparently.

Also, he'd had some... strange flashbacks during the day. Enough to remember what Pierce had done to him anyway: pushed him out a window.

Bucky had no idea how he wasn't injured, or _dead_. He wasn't tired either, not even after going into work today. He spotted the black leathers, and an idea formed in his head.

Bucky smiled to himself as he pulled off his office clothes. "Pierce, you're a dead man," he muttered.

Bucky got dressed in his leathers again, and the new gloves with retractable claws. He put on his boots, and the cat mask, and picked up the black whip.

Revenge was a dish best served cold.

 

He stole a car and journeyed back into the city, leaving the car in an alley as he climbed up a fire escape and jumped over rooftops. In the distance of the New York City skyline was the Pierce Enterprises building.

Bucky took his time, waiting until late. When the building was finally empty save for the night security, Bucky climbed down a fire escape and went to the store windows to peer in.

All the Christmas toys in the department store were on display. The sugary sweet and public face of a sleazy, lying corporation.

Bucky grinned slyly, and ran his clawed fingers over the glass as he walked around to the alley. There was a side entrance there that he knew the code for, and he slipped through easily.

Only a few lights were on inside the store, just enough for the security guards to see when they patrolled around. Bucky didn't see anyone yet, but he knew they were there. He decided to get their attention before he executed his plan.

He stalked among the children's toys: stuffed bears, gingerbread houses, dolls. There was a big doll's house in the center of a display: a very expensive toy only for the very richest of families. Bucky had always hated it: aspirational at best, bland at worst.

He did a roundhouse kick aimed at the doll's house and sent it flying off its perch, breaking into pieces on the hard floor.

Tonight, Bucky was here to make a statement to Pierce, to the whole company. And it'd be the only warning Pierce was gonna get. Bucky drew out his whip, trailing it along the floor behind him as he marched through to the clothing section.

There were some adult sized mannequins lined up, wearing this season's latest fashions. Bucky swung his whip up, circling it around his head a few times to get a feel for it. He liked how it cracked and snapped in the air.

The mannequins seemed like good practice, so Bucky aimed first at the nearest one: he cracked his whip, and took the mannequin's head clean off.

Bucky was pleased. He seemed to have a knack for it. He snapped the whip again, and took the heads off the next two mannequins. The plastic heads tumbled across the floor, and Bucky snickered in delight.

He gathered up both ends of the whip like a jump-rope, and skipped through the store until he came to a glass case of sparkling jewelry.

"Mmm," he purred, and used the handle end of the whip to smash through the glass. He pulled out a gold necklace to examine it closer, but tossed it aside in disgust. "Cheap junk," he muttered, and smashed the rest of the glass case for good measure.

The sound of guns being cocked behind him had Bucky turning around curiously.

It was the two security guards, and both of them seemed more amused than worried about him being there.

"Nice outfit," one of them said, only loosely holding his pistol.

"Yeah, bet they'll love you down at the precinct when the cops haul your ass downtown," his partner said.

Bucky only smiled, then cracked his whip lightning fast. He snapped first one gun and then the next right out of the guard's hands.

"Shit!" the guard said, rubbing his hand.

"Don't hurt us," his partner whined, "our take home's less than three hundred."

"You're overpaid," Bucky snarled back. "Hit the road." He snapped his whip at them to get them running.

Pathetic, he thought.

But now they were out of the picture, he had work to do.

Bucky wound up his whip and secured it at his belt. Then he turned a cartwheel just for the sheer joy of it, and headed towards the beauty counters. He picked out the biggest aerosol cans he could find, and took them over to a service panel on the wall. Bucky punched a hole through the panel, and had to yank really hard to pull it clear off its hinges. Inside, the gas supply. Bucky ripped wires free, turned up the dials, and ran for the exit.

 

 

~

  


Steve had put on his stealth suit and come to Pierce Enterprises in order to do a bit of digging. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd find, but he didn't trust Alexander Pierce one bit.

He'd been on a neighboring rooftop planning his entry, when he saw two people running from the ground floor level. Steve hurried down the fire escape, but before he could get even halfway down the building, another figure came leaping from the store's main entrance, followed by an explosion.

Steve shielded his eyes, then looked to the ground. The department store had been blown up, embers and fragments from the explosion littering the snow. Steve spoke into his Comms, "Jarvis, I need emergency services at Pierce Enterprises, there's been an explosion. Possibly arson."

"On their way, Captain," Jarvis replied. "Are you injured?"

Steve got distracted seeing the figure that had leapt from the explosion began to climb up another building.

"I'm fine," Steve said into the Comms. "In pursuit of possible hostile."

He hurried along the fire escape, trying to get closer to the other building. Whoever the guy was, he was fast, and was climbing that building like it was nothing. Steve was fast too, and with a mighty leap he jumped over to the next fire escape.

Steve landed loud enough for the fleeing man to hear, and he sent down an angry hiss in response. Steve couldn't get a good look at him, being in all black, but he continued his pursuit.

The chase to the top of the building took mere moments despite being several floors, and Steve had to hurry before he lost his target.

As he pulled himself up the final ladder to the roof, a booted foot shot out of the dark and kicked him square in the face.

It was a hard kick too, and Steve lost his grip, falling onto the slant of a roof below. He shook off the daze, and made to get up. While he was still pulling himself to his feet, his assailant jumped into view: a man dressed up to resemble a black cat.

It made Steve pause, because, well.

He looked pretty hot.

Though clearly the man didn't have any problems attacking Captain America, as he lunged forward with a high kick that Steve barely managed to block. The cat-man slashed at Steve's arm with clawed hands, and Steve had to get his shield off his back to defend himself.

Steve wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to hurt the other man, but as he was posing a threat and actually seemed pretty strong, Steve had no choice. As he was driven back along the rooftop by the force of the vicious attack, Steve dodged and blocked until he saw an opening and slammed his shield into him.

The cat-man went down, landing on his hands and knees. He looked up at Steve accusingly and gasped out, "You hurt me!"

Steve's instinct was to help anyone in need, and he bent down to offer a hand to him. "I'm sorry," he started, but was completely taken by surprise when the man swung his leg out to kick Steve in the gut.

Their fight began anew, this time the man brought out a long bullwhip, cracking it dangerously in the air. Steve was nicked across his jaw, and had to draw back, out of range.

The whip flicked and snapped through the air as the cat-man advanced on him. Steve was driven to the edge of the building, and almost lost his footing. The whip caught around his arm, and instead of falling off the roof Steve found himself dangling from the whip.

The cat-man held it securely, leaning over the rooftop to chuckle at him. "You shouldn't be so trusting," he taunted. "There are people who'll take advantage of that. Take me, for instance."

Steve grunted, dangling like a fish on a line, but managed to get his shield ready to throw.

"Life's a bitch," the cat-man went on, "now so am I."

Steve threw the shield, knocking into the man's arm. He howled and let go of the whip. Steve grabbed onto the ledge to stop himself from falling, and watched the cat-man tumble onto a slippery, slanted roof. Despite his claws, he couldn't get a grip, scrabbling wildly.

Steve pulled himself up onto the roof, and leaned over just as the other man let out a cry. Steve caught his hand before he fell, and pulled him up.

Thanks to his super soldier strength, Steve was able to hold onto him securely and set him down. They stood there pressed together for the longest moment, the cat-man gasping in breaths.

"Who are you?" he gasped. "Who's the man behind the mask?"

Steve held his breath as the cat-man pressed his body closer, his hands gripping Steve's shoulders.

"Perhaps you can help me find the man behind my mask," cat-man whispered, as he trailed one clawed hand down Steve's chest. "Mmm," he purred. "No, that's not you..." He stroked over Steve's abs and around the plated armor of his abs. "Ah, there you are."

Steve felt a sharp stab of pain at his side, and he'd had enough of being played: he knocked the cat-man back and sent him flying off the roof.

From his side, Steve yanked out one silver and bloody claw.

 

 

Bucky fell, and it was like living through a nightmare all over again: the cold air whipping around him as he plummeted down, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to scream.

Except this time his fall was broken by something soft. He landed with a hard grunt into grainy sand, in the flatbed of a moving truck.

Bucky shook his head and looked about him in a daze. He realised it wasn't sand he'd landed in, it was actually kitty litter. Bucky snorted in amusement, and tried to sit up.

"Ow," he murmured, looking at his arm where that stupid shield had struck him. There was a rip in his leather, and blood from a nasty cut.

But he'd live.

"Fucking asshole," Bucky growled.

  
  


  
  
  


 


	3. A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple things! 
> 
> Tags have been updated.
> 
> And! The wonderful Frostbitebakery has done amazing art of cat-bucky, for Crow's birthday: [see it here](http://frostbitebakery.tumblr.com/post/179392569851/meow-for-jro616s-story-feline-fatale-happy). 
> 
>  
> 
> ~

 

The next day at Pierce Enterprises, there was scaffolding and clean up work going on at the lower levels of the building.

The department store had been blown to bits: the windows shattered, glass still littering the street outside which was cordoned off while the cleaning crews got to work. The toys and goods inside the store had been destroyed where the 'arson attack', as the news was calling it, had taken place.

All the department store staff had been laid off until further notice while the clean up efforts took place. And up on the executive floors, nobody cared.

Least of all Pierce. The sleazeball carried on as if nothing had happened, more concerned with his re-lighting of the tree appearance being scheduled than his staff being out of work.

Bucky had gone into the office, as normal, shocked when he'd first seen the aftermath of the arson attack, and then realising as he went up in the elevator that it'd been _him_. The memories were hazy at best, only coming back to him in parts.

Just... _shit_ , Bucky thought. _What the hell?_

He didn't tell anyone (how could he?) and he tried not to do anything to arouse suspicion as he went about his business.

Not that anyone noticed him anyway, and Pierce was doing his best to ignore Bucky for the most part, seeming somewhat unsettled by his presence.

At lunch, Pierce actually sent him out to pick up his dry-cleaning, probably just to get him out of the way. Bucky didn't argue, just did as he was told and exited the building.

Outside, he loitered on the other side of the street, watching the clean up services working around Pierce Enterprises. Some of the store's staff were still standing outside, probably worried they wouldn't be able to work over the holidays.

Bucky turned away and faced the window of the clothing store he was outside of. His own reflection caught his eye: he was wrapped up in a winter coat, his long hair loose and a wavy mess, and there were dark rings under his eyes. The cut on his forehead was healing, but still a nasty red.

Bucky didn't recognise himself, didn't recognise the man staring back at him.

"Why are you doing this," he whispered, trying to find answers in the reflection.

Another figure appeared next to Bucky's, a suave gentleman in a buttoned coat.

"Mister Barnes?" he said.

Bucky blinked, and turned his head to see the man standing next to him: real, not a mirage. He was tall, blond and handsome, and he smiled warmly at Bucky.

"Hey," he said softly. "Hi, I'm Steve, Steve Rogers. We met at Pierce's office the other day."

Bucky nodded slowly. "I remember."

Steve smiled brighter. "Well, great! Hey, are you alright? You looked a million miles away just now."

"Oh." Bucky forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah, just... crossing people off my Christmas list in my head. You know how it is."

"Sure." Steve smiled back, holding his eyes.

Steve's eyes were very blue, Bucky thought. He seemed happy to see Bucky too, which was... interesting.

"You working today?" Steve asked, and gestured over his shoulder. "Terrible business, with the arson attack last night."

"Oh, yeah," Bucky said dryly. "And yet Pierce Enterprises keeps going. In fact, I'm supposed to be on an important errand, so..."

He turned to walk along the sidewalk, and Steve fell into step beside him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, making Bucky look at him sharply.

"Huh?"

"Your skiing accident?" Steve clarified, gesturing to Bucky's forehead. "Was that what it was?"

"Oh," Bucky said flatly, and looked down at the ground as they walked. "Yeah. I guess I'm lucky."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Steve said.

Bucky smiled at his sincerity, and glanced over at the bag Steve carried, bearing the name of another store. "Doing some Christmas shopping?"

"Oh, yeah, sort of," Steve said with a chuckle. "These are for me. I got a new place and I sort of forgot to decorate. Thought I better at least make an effort."

"Mm," Bucky said absently.

They were in the middle of the square now, and the dry cleaners was another block over. In the square, the Christmas tree was being prepped for re-lighting tonight, after being thoroughly wrecked two nights ago with that renegade attack.

"You going to the lighting of the tree?" Steve asked. "I heard they have all of that clown gang in police custody, so. It should be safe this time."

"Oh, no, I'm not going," Bucky said. "I had my fill of that the last time."

"That's fair," Steve said, as a car horn tooted in the distance.

Steve raised a hand to wave briefly, then turned back to Bucky. "That's my ride. Listen, it was great to see you again."

Bucky was caught off guard a bit, and blinked at Steve in surprise. "And you, Mister Rogers."

"Steve, please." He smiled shyly. "Look, uh, do you want to come over tonight? I'm putting my decorations up and we can watch the lighting of the tree together, on T.V."

"I have an appointment after work," Bucky said, which wasn't entirely untrue.

"Surely you've got time for something to eat, or a glass of wine?" Steve tried, looking so earnest. "Let's say, six? Seven?"

Bucky felt won over by Steve's charm, and smiled back. "Okay. Seven. Where do you live exactly?"

"It's uptown," Steve said, his cheeks coloring. "I can send a car for you if you want?"

"I can make my own way," Bucky replied.

"Okay, if you're sure. Here, I got a card..." Steve dug in his pocket and handed over a small Christmas card.

Bucky took it, huffing a laugh at the corny elves on the front, and reading the address written inside.

That was a nice neighborhood. Bucky's eyebrows twitched in surprise.

"Well, Steve," he said, pocketing the card, "I look forward to seeing you in your new apartment."

"Great!" Steve beamed. "That's great. Um, will you tell me your first name?"

"James," Bucky told him. "But people who know me personally call me Bucky."

"What do you want me to call you?" Steve asked, his eyes dancing.

Bucky smiled slyly. "I'll leave that up to you, Steve. Now, I must go do this important errand."

"Yes, of course. I'll see you tonight!"

"You will."

 

 

~

 

 

Bucky had a busy evening ahead of him, and he had no idea if he'd get through it or not, but he needed a damn car to get about the city, and one that wasn't stolen.

He left work (smuggling out a hard disc he'd copied from Pierce's protected files, hidden in his coat) and headed downtown to a garage. He paid in cash for a piece of junk that was still working, and drove straight home.

There were still plenty of cats in his apartment, and Bucky set down food for them as they mewed at his feet.

"Sorry, I can't stay," he said, tickling the dozen nearest cats behind their ears. "Daddy's got a date."

"Meow," one of the cats answered.

"Actually," Bucky said, picking up his black leathers, "Daddy has _two_ dates."

 

He packed his costume into the car, and left again. He drove back uptown to the address Steve had given him, whistling lowly as he parked outside a brownstone.

"Somebody's got money," he murmured, getting out of his car.

Maybe he should've dressed up more, but Bucky didn't get that vibe from Steve. He walked up the steps and pressed the only doorbell he could find. Which probably meant Steve owned all the floors.

Steve answered the door himself, wearing a Christmas sweater and a big grin.

"Bucky," he greeted. "Please, come on in."

"Thanks." Bucky stepped inside, and allowed Steve to take his coat to hang up.

"Do you like cookies?" Steve asked. "I got oatmeal or chocolate chip, straight out of the oven."

Bucky raised his eyebrows in amusement as he followed a clearly nervous Steve into the apartment.

"Either's fine," he said, looking around.

It was certainly a nice building, but inside didn't have many furnishings. There were a few boxes piled up down the hall, so Steve must've moved in very recently.

"This way." Steve gestured to the first big room they came to. "I tried to decorate, but I'm not very good at it."

Bucky entered a living room with a working fireplace, a plush looking couch, and a real Christmas tree set in a bay window.

The tree was only partly decorated, half bare and half dressed. On the mantelpiece above the fire sat three little Christmas cards, and something about the scene struck Bucky as kind of lonely, tugged on his heart strings a bit.

He turned to Steve and gave him a real smile. "Want a hand decorating that tree?"

Steve grinned in response, and gestured for Bucky to help himself. "I'll just go grab the cookies. Do you like eggnog? Or wine?"

"Just a small glass of wine," Bucky said. "White?"

"Great. I'll be right back." Steve dashed from the room, and Bucky wandered over to the tree, stopping by the couch to stroke the smooth material.

It was nice, especially with the fire going. Bucky could just imagine curling up on this couch, maybe with Steve and a few cats.

His cats sure would love all this space, Bucky thought.

He stood in front of the tree, and bent down to a box of Christmas decorations, rooting around among the baubles. Steve had mostly traditional styles, and Bucky liked that. He found a gold bell on a red ribbon, and lifted it out with a tinkle.

Bucky looked over his shoulder to check Steve wasn't there before he gave into the impulse to swat the bell and make it ring. He batted the bell a couple times before he dropped it back into the box and pinched his fingers to his brow.

What was up with him lately?

Bucky inhaled, and took out a couple of baubles instead. He hung them on the taller of the tree branches, trying his best to behave like a normal person would.

"Hey, that looks great," Steve said, coming back in with a tray of warm cookies, and two glasses of wine.

Bucky smiled at him. Steve looked very domestic playing host, especially in his Christmas sweater. He placed the tray onto the coffee table, and picked up the glasses. "Here you go." Steve handed one to Bucky, and held up his own with a hopeful smile on his face. "Happy Holidays."

Bucky gently tipped his glass against Steve's to make them ring. "Happy Holidays, Steve."

Steve's cheeks colored prettily, and he took a sip of his wine. Bucky drank his down in one, then offered the glass back to Steve with a smile.

"Oh, uh..." Steve took his glass, and set it down on the table. "You want a cookie?"

"Maybe later." Bucky grinned at him. "Wanna decorate your tree?"

"Yeah, sure." Steve came over and picked out a string of tinsel from the box. "Shall I put on the T.V.? The, um, relighting of the tree?"

"You know, I'm happy to ignore the real world for a bit," Bucky said. "If that's okay?"

Steve nodded fast. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. I, um. Yeah."

Bucky smiled, relieved. "Good."

 

They decorated Steve's tree, stepping around each other with ribbon and tinsel, and laughing at their rather poor attempts to make the decorations look effortless. Steve relaxed the more Bucky flirted with him, and got brave enough to flirt back: little touches and lingering looks, and standing close to Bucky.

It was nice, and Bucky enjoyed the attention.

After they'd finished with the tree, they settled on the couch in front of the fire. The cookies were soft and tasty, and after another glass of wine, Bucky felt very loose and relaxed. He reclined on the couch, his body language open as he looked at Steve.

"Alone for the holidays?" he asked.

"I, uh, I have friends," Steve said. "Well, maybe a couple friends. The others are more like colleagues. We haven't had much chance to get to know each other yet."

"Your family here?"

Steve gave him a small smile. "No, just me."

That seemed a little sad, Bucky thought. Steve was far too nice to be spending the holidays alone.

"And you?" Steve asked him.

"My parents are in Indiana," Bucky said with a wry laugh. "And I have no desire to fly back there during the holidays. Besides, I had to work."

"I sure hope you get paid overtime," Steve told him.

"Don't worry," Bucky purred. "I'll make it worth my while."

Steve smiled at him, and Bucky watched, waiting. Steve was into him, he could tell, but he seemed too shy to make the first move.

Bucky shifted on the couch, inching a little closer. "So, Steve. You into guys?"

Steve's smile grew. "I'm into you."

Bucky bit his lip, looking at Steve hungrily. "That so?"

The tension was palpable, firing up Bucky's senses. Suddenly he couldn't take it any longer: he pounced, flinging himself across the couch and on top of Steve.

Steve's face registered surprise at first, but he caught Bucky as he fell back and held him close. Bucky kissed him passionately, thrilled when Steve kissed him back, threading a hand into Bucky's loose hair and gripping at the roots.

Bucky hummed happily into Steve's mouth as the kiss slowed down. Steve held onto Bucky's hair and turned his head just how he wanted it in a display of dominance that was very exciting. He shoved his tongue inside Bucky's mouth and kissed.

Bucky started grinding himself down onto Steve to get him riled up, and when he broke the kiss they were both panting.

"What do you say," Bucky breathed against Steve's lips, "we move this to the bedroom?"

Steve licked at his wet lips and smiled at him. "I'd say, yes, please."

 

 

~

 

 

Sleeping with Bucky was...

Well, Steve hadn't even expected to get as far as this, so he was a mix of very excited and also very nervous. It'd been a while.

But with Bucky, Steve didn't even have a chance to second guess himself: Bucky was a handful. The moment they got upstairs to Steve's bedroom Bucky was on him, ripping his shirt apart and pulling his clothes off. Steve had to pick up his pace, and once they were in the bed Bucky was all over him.

Steve didn't mind the energetic approach, he was just mindful of his own strength: he didn't want to get so distracted that he'd hurt Bucky.

It was odd, though, because Bucky seemed... pretty strong. Steve preferred being on top, but with Bucky it was a tussle.

An exciting tussle.

They made out, wet and sloppy with lots of tongue, bodies grinding together as one fought to be on top, then got rolled underneath by the other. Bucky seemed to enjoy the rough and tumble, and Steve kind of liked overpowering him, just to hear that deep rumbling growl from Bucky.

"Are you always this feisty?" Steve asked, breathing hard. He'd got Bucky onto his front, and was rutting up against his beautiful plump ass with his bare cock.

Bucky arched his back, pushing his ass up into Steve. "I'm... not sure," he panted. "Wanna try and wear me out, big guy?"

Steve laughed breathily. "I'd love to."

 

After some prep, they rearranged themselves on the bed. Bucky said he wanted to ride Steve and, well, Steve wasn't going to say no. He sat back against the headboard and watched excitedly as Bucky lowered himself down onto Steve's cock.

"Big boy," Bucky growled, taking Steve's cock and rocking his hips.

Steve swore under his breath, holding onto Bucky as he got a rhythm going. "You like it?"

"Yeah, I like it," Bucky husked out, and started to bounce himself on Steve's cock. "Fuck, yeah."

Steve groaned, reaching around to catch Bucky's hard cock between them and fisting it in his hand. Bucky mewled, his pace faltering.

"Keep going, baby," Steve urged, swiping his thumb over the head of Bucky's cock, smearing the pre-come there. Bucky let out a breathy laugh, and started bouncing again. Steve helped him, pumping his hips and pushing up into Bucky.

"Oh, yeah," Bucky groaned, head falling back. "Oh, God."

Steve wanted more: he grabbed Bucky around his hips and his back, and swung him around. Bucky let out a gasp of surprise as his back hit the mattress and Steve thrust into him again.

"Yes!" Bucky gasped, as Steve began pounding his ass. "Gimme that dick."

Steve fucked him hard and aimed for his sweet spot, making Bucky cry out. His fists clenched in the sheets as he cried, "Oh, fuck, right there!"

Steve sped up his thrusts. "You gonna come for me, baby?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Bucky gasped, his body tensing up. "Oh, I'm coming!"

His ass clamped down on Steve's cock as he shot his load all over his stomach. Bucky made the best noises Steve'd heard, raspy groans, and soft, little cries. He looked gorgeous and fucked out against the pillows, and Steve pounded into him until he tipped over the edge and came with Bucky's name on his lips.

They collapsed onto the sheets together, sweaty and panting. Bucky fell asleep pretty quickly, so Steve pulled the covers over them both.

It was then Steve noticed the nasty cut on Bucky's upper arm: it looked only a couple days old at most, with some very uneven stitches in the wound.

He resolved to ask Bucky about it later, but when Bucky woke up they immediately got into round two, and then round three.

Steve ended up falling asleep after that, and when he woke up at midnight, he found the other side of his bed empty, and Bucky had gone.

 

 

 

 


	4. All Lit Up for Christmas

 

 

Bucky got into work early and started the regular morning set up.

He made sure the office was tidy, and the day's files were on Pierce's desk. Then he set out the silver tray with Pierce's coffee mug on it, fine bone china, and... had the strongest, most unexplainable urge to just _push_ the whole tray off the table.

Bucky managed to resist it. He had to play it cool today, and stick close to Pierce. Today also had all the last minute planning for the masked ball on Saturday night, that Pierce Enterprises was holding for charity.

_Allegedly_ for charity. Bucky sincerely doubted all of the money raised would be going to worthy causes.

But that's precisely why he planned on going.

When Pierce arrived, looking somewhat harried as he stalked down the hallway, Bucky smiled sweetly at him and got the coffee ready.

"Good morning, sir," he said placidly.

"Barnes," Pierce said, giving him a wide berth.

He'd been doing that a lot these last few days.

"You're here early," Pierce said.

Bucky gave him a flat smile. "The early bird catches the worm," he said, amused when Pierce simply nodded then retreated into his office.

"Bring me the faxes," he barked.

"Yes, sir," Bucky said, and went to the fax machine.

Pierce wasn't going to like this morning's faxes: Bucky had already seen the letter, sent in from New York City council suspending planning permission for Pierce's power plant, pending a full investigation.

Someone had sent the council a tip-off about how unsafe the power plant would be. (Or rather, somebody had left copies of all the protected files on the desks of prominent city council board members early this morning, but Bucky wasn't one to brag.) So, Pierce's plans were shot to hell today.

Bucky smiled to himself as he poured the coffee. "Early bird catches the worm," he repeated under his breath. "The second mouse gets the cheese. And the cat..."

He glanced over his shoulder at Pierce, who was pacing about his office in frustration.

"The cat likes to play first," Bucky murmured.

 

 

~

 

 

Steve felt a little silly, yearning to talk to Bucky but not having an excuse to. Bucky hadn't left his number. Of course, Steve knew where he worked but he didn't think it was polite to go stalk the guy there.

He considered sending flowers, or something. Maybe anonymously, or just with his initial.

Or was that dorky?

Steve wasn't too up with the times. Everything seemed so different from the '40s. He wasn't about to presume that Bucky was out at work either, so he'd have to play it cool.

It'd only been a couple of days since their date anyway.

But... Steve really wanted to see him again. He _liked_ Bucky, and they'd had a nice time. All he wanted was to see or talk to Bucky somehow and ask him out again.

Next time he'd ask him for dinner, Steve decided.

Meanwhile there was plenty of work for him and The Avengers to do. Christmas didn't mean a rest for superheroes. Although there hadn't been any further sightings of that cat-man arsonist, which, _good_ , because if Steve saw him again, he'd kick his ass for real.

While Steve was on his way to a meeting with Natasha and Clint, Jarvis pinged him on his phone. Steve put it to his ear. "Hey, Jarvis."

"Hello, Captain," Jarvis said. "You have an alert to R.S.V.P. to the Pierce Enterprises charity ball on Saturday night."

"Not interested," Steve said immediately. He'd already heard the news from the city council that Pierce's power plant had been suspended, and Steve planned to avoid that insufferable asshole over the holidays as much as he could.

"Very well, sir," Jarvis said.

Then something occurred to Steve. "Although," he said, "Bucky Barnes might be there."

"Shall I R.S.V.P. in the affirmative, sir?" Jarvis asked.

Steve exhaled lightly. Looked like he was going to the stupid party after all.

"Yes, please, Jarvis," he said, shaking his head at himself. "Yes, please."

 

 

~

 

 

Saturday night, Steve dressed in his nicest suit, shirt and silk tie.

He didn't want to wear a mask, and he didn't care that it was a masked ball. He was tired of wearing masks.

He'd borrowed a car to drive himself there, because he didn't want a driver having to wait on him. And, besides, he had his _other_ suit and his shield stashed in the trunk. Just in case.

The party was being held in a hotel in midtown. Once Steve was let through the security he entered the ballroom full of people in costume: civilians in all different outfits, from full on period ballgowns and Venetician masks to superhero parodies in spandex.

Steve declined to take a flute of champagne from the waitstaff, and made his way down the carpeted steps. He was searching for one face in the crowd, and only now started to realise it'd be a lot harder to find Bucky than he'd thought when everyone here was in masks.

There was music from a live band on the stage, dressed like period dandies and playing classical instruments. Steve almost felt transported back in time but nowhere he'd ever managed to sneak into back in the '30s and '40s played classical music.

Steve was bustled into by a man dressed as Zorro, and a woman dressed like a cheetah. Steve let them pass, and the cat get-up reminded him of that masked cat-man.

Steve went to move away, but was stopped by a man in a charcoal grey suit wearing an enormous bejeweled turban on his head. Steve looked into the face obscured by an eye mask on a stick, and when the man moved the mask away, Steve saw it was Alexander Pierce.

"Genius costume," Pierce said, looking Steve up and down. "Let me guess: insufferable do-gooder."

Steve smiled blandly. "Mister Pierce. Swell party."

"No thanks to you," Pierce replied.

"You seem mad," Steve pointed out. "Why don't you take a night off, relax a little."

"You may think you got the best of me," Pierce said, leaning in, "but mere setbacks have never stopped Pierce Enterprises before, and they won't now."

Steve's mouth twitched as he fought the urge to grin. "I know you'd love to blame me for putting a monkey wrench in your power plant proposal, but I'm afraid that credit belongs to someone else."

"It's a coward who can't admit what they've done," Pierce accused.

"If it had been me, believe me, Mister Pierce, I wouldn't hide it. But somebody beat me to the punch. If you find out who it was, let me know so I can thank them." Steve made to move away. "Good evening," he said in parting.

Pierce hadn't even bothered to hide the bewilderment on his face. He seemed pretty pissed, which was a rare sight.

Still, not Steve's problem right now.

Steve walked away, slipping between costumed dancers. He found himself wandering through the dancefloor, still looking for Bucky but unsure how he'd ever spot him. Steve felt a bit lost.

The music changed to something slower, and dancers took up their partners in close embraces for a slow dance.

Okay, Steve thought, he really should go. He'd look like a total ham standing around on his own.

Steve headed toward the stairs, intending to leave. People in costume were coming and going all around: a fanciful peacock and a pirate with a feathered hat moved aside, and Steve spotted the person walking down the stairs behind them.

_Bucky._

Steve stopped, and stared. It was Bucky, with no mask, and his long hair tied back neatly. He wore a black suit, much like Steve's.

Without thinking, Steve moved toward him. Bucky noticed Steve, and gave him a shy smile.

They met on the dancefloor, and Steve extended his hand. "I'm not a very good dancer, but..."

Bucky smiled at him, and took his hand. "I'd love to."

They slow danced among the other couples, pressed close. Steve couldn't stop looking at Bucky, thinking how gorgeous he was and remembering that amazing night they'd shared.

Bucky smiled like he knew what was on Steve's mind. "Didn't think you'd come to a Pierce function."

"I came to see you," Steve admitted.

"Oh." Bucky looked at Steve in surprise, his eyes glistening. "That's... lovely." He exhaled a sigh. "I only wish I could say the same, but I came for Pierce."

Steve felt the sharp stab of disappointment.

"What, you... you and _Pierce?_ "

"Oh, no!" Bucky replied, and started to laugh: actually threw his head back with a loud cackle.

"Okay," Steve said, feeling embarrassed and relieved all at once. "So... work?"

Bucky managed to get a hold of himself and stopped laughing.

"Mm, something like that," he breathed, holding Steve's shoulders as he pressed close.

Steve wet his lips, looking into Bucky's pale blue eyes. "Will you, uh, be late? Because I've got a car, I can take you home later."

"Don't you want to drink?" Bucky asked.

"No, I'm fine," Steve said. "I'm happy to hang out and wait for you. If you want."

Bucky tilted his head curiously as he looked at Steve. "How come you're so nice, hm?"

Steve smiled at that. "I'm only nice when I want to be."

"Mm. Is that so?" Bucky's eyes flicked down to Steve's mouth, then back up to his eyes. He leaned in, and Steve took the invitation: he leaned in too and captured Bucky's lips with his.

They shared a heated kiss, then Bucky pulled back with a pleased sounding hum. Then he chuckled lowly as he looked up. "A kiss under the mistletoe."

Steve glanced up, saw the ornate bundle of mistletoe and red ribbon hanging from the ceiling.

"Mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it," Steve pointed out.

Bucky smiled back. "A kiss can be even deadlier," he leaned in close to whisper, "if you mean it."

Steve went to kiss him again, but Bucky turned his head quickly as something caught his eye. Steve looked too, and saw Pierce hurrying up the steps.

Bucky turned back to Steve with an apologetic smile. "Well, no rest for the wicked, Steve. Are you sure you don't mind waiting around for me?"

"No, I'm good," Steve insisted. "I'll wait for you."

"This shouldn't take long," Bucky said, peeling himself away. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay." Steve smiled blissfully as he watched Bucky go, turning once to smile at Steve over his shoulder before he hurried up the stairs after Pierce.

Steve wondered what it was they were doing.

A few minutes later, as Steve hung around at the sidelines, the music came to a stop and the party-goers applauded the band.

A woman dressed in shells and a mermaid style skirt came to the stage and thanked the patrons for their generous donations to charity.

"And now," she announced, "please welcome to the stage the man of the hour, Mister Alexander Pierce!"

The crowd applauded and Steve expected Pierce to waltz onstage and give a smarmy speech.

But there was no sign of Pierce.

The announcer and an aide beside her looked confused, and she spoke into the mic again. "Mister Pierce?"

Steve looked about the ballroom, as did many other people, searching for Pierce. Odd, Steve thought. Maybe it was a mix up and he was in the bathroom or something.

The announcer hastily said that the band would play another song while they waited for Pierce.

As the music started up again, Steve looked around, watching the aides onstage speak to the security in black suits. They all darted away, no doubt to begin a search. The staff began a sweep of the ballroom, some with radios talking to each other.

Steve discreetly put his own earpiece into his ear and pressed a button on his wristwatch so he could tap into the nearest radio chatter.

"He's not here," one harried voice said. "We'll check the bathrooms and other floors."

"Well, where's he gone?" another voice demanded. "He knew the schedule!"

They'd lost Pierce, Steve realised.

And there was simply no way Pierce would've missed a chance in the spotlight. Something was wrong.

"Shit," Steve swore quietly.

He had a hunch, but he sure hoped he was wrong.

 

 

~

 

 

"You're making a mistake," Pierce said, stumbling up the stairwell.

He was bleeding from his nose and from a small gash on his head: Bucky had already roughed him up some.

"Keep walking," Bucky gritted out, a few steps behind him. He snapped his whip, licking the air close to Pierce and making him flinch.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I can get you anything you want," Pierce tried. "Money. A car." He peered around warily as Bucky twitched his whip on the floor.

Pierce swallowed. "A very big ball of string?"

Bucky snapped the whip at Pierce, this time over his ass and making him cry out. "Move!" he ordered.

 

 

~

 

 

Steve went straight to his car and changed into his stealth suit in the backseat (which really wasn't easy and he had simply _no_ idea how Natasha managed it so effortlessly) then he drove to the Pierce Enterprises building.

He got out and strapped his shield onto his back, and used a small set of thermo-imaging binoculars to scan the lower floors of the building.

Nothing there, and the ground floor itself was still an empty bomb site. Steve looked up at the floors, and decided to follow his instinct. He went to the fire escape and jumped onto it, and began to climb the levels quickly. He checked for thermo-images on his way up, but nothing yet.

He hoped he wasn't too late.

Steve got to the roof and cautiously peered over the top.

Empty.

"Shit," he muttered, climbing up and taking a look around. Steve searched the entire roof, all the hiding places behind the stairwell entrance, water tower, and outcroppings.

Nothing.

His hunch had been wrong.

Steve put his hands on his hips as he looked out across the buildings in the distance. He'd have to call this in, even though most of the team were already busy with much bigger missions right now.

Then Steve noticed movement on the roof of a building just across the square. He got out his binoculars and looked, adjusting the focus. Two figures at the edge of the roof, one with his hands up and the other with a whip.

"Shit," Steve said. Well, there they were: now he just had to get over there before it was too late.

It was too far to jump, he'd have to climb back down then climb up the other building.

 

 

~

 

 

"Look, just t-tell me what you w-want," Pierce said, his teeth chattering from the cold.

Snowflakes had started to fall, but Bucky was fine in his leathers.

"Move," he ordered, cracking his whip. "Up on the ledge."

"K-killing me won't solve anything," Pierce said, still trying to talk his way out. "Whatever it is you want, I can get it for you."

"That's right, actually," Bucky said with mild amusement. "You're the only one who can give me what I want." He snapped the whip at Pierce's legs, forcing him up onto the ledge. " _Revenge_."

"This won't turn out well for you," Pierce warned, holding his hands out as he wobbled precariously on the building's ledge.

Bucky sniffed. That was hardly a threat: nothing for Bucky had ever turned out _well_ , and he wasn't afraid of that anymore. But that was the difference between him and Pierce. Pierce was a man who only ever got what he wanted, because he trod on other people's lives to get there.

Well, that was gonna change. Pierce was about to get a taste of what it was like when things didn't _work out well._

"Think of this as your last service to New York City," Bucky purred. "You'll fall from this ledge and plummet thirty storeys, and there's a big, gift wrapped box waiting for you under the Christmas tree. And when you hit it–" Bucky cracked his whip in the air, making Pierce flinch and wobble. "Boom! You'll light up the square."

"You won't get away with this," Pierce said.

"Oh, grow up," Bucky replied.

"Bucky!" came a shout, and Bucky whirled around to see that irritating goody-two-shoes Captain America on the roof behind him.

"You!" Bucky snarled, and cracked his whip at him. "Keep your patriotic nose out of this one!"

Cap held up his hands as he approached slowly. "Bucky. C'mon. I get that you want Pierce gone, but this isn't the way to do it. He's going to be investigated, his company too."

"Captain America!" Pierce called out. "Thank goodness you're here, I'm–"

"Shut up," Cap directed at him. "You're going to jail."

"Don't be naïve!" Bucky snapped his whip at Cap. "The law doesn't apply to people like him, or us."

"Bucky, please." Cap came closer, his look imploring. "This isn't the way. Bucky–"

Bucky growled, twitching his whip. "Stop saying that! Who are you?"

Cap raised his hands, and reached for the chin strap under his helmet. The snap opened and Cap slowly removed his mask.

Bucky's eyes widened. " _Steve?_ "

"Yeah, Bucky." Steve tossed the helmet aside. "It's me. Look, I get it, I do. But you can't do this. Let's take him to the cops and they can deal with him."

Bucky threw his head back with a laugh. "The cops!" he scoffed. "Don't you realise who this asshole has on his payroll? He'll just slither out of it like the slimy shit he is. No, Steve, he has to die. It's the only way."

" _Barnes?_ " Pierce said in disbelief.

Bucky turned back to Pierce, teeth bared as he pulled the mask off his face.

"James Barnes," Pierce scolded, as he got down from the ledge and pointed a finger at Bucky. "You're fired! And, Steve Rogers?" Pierce took a step toward Steve. "Why're you dressed up like Captain America?"

Bucky resisted rolling his eyes. "Because he _is_ Cap, you moron."

Pierce smiled coldly. " _Was_. You're a dead man now, Rogers. As soon as I have your name out there, you're through."

"Wrong." Bucky cracked his whip twice in the air, making both men flinch. Then he aimed the whip at Pierce's head and went to snap it hard.

Steve moved fast and blocked it with his arm, the tail end of the whip slicing at his cheek as he grimaced in pain.

"Steve! Get out of my way!"

Bucky was distracted, and Pierce used that moment to grab at the length of the whip and loop it around Bucky's neck. Bucky let out a choked gasp, clawing at the bond around his throat in panic.

"Pierce!" Steve shouted, as Pierce dragged Bucky back.

"Not another move," Pierce warned, using Bucky as a human shield. "Or I'll throttle your pet cat here."

"Pierce," Steve said firmly, "think about what you're doing."

"Oh, I'm thinking very clearly," Pierce replied. "Both of you are _done_."

Bucky's panic ebbed away as the two men spoke, and he realised the chokehold wasn't stopping his airflow. Either Pierce was too weak or something, but Bucky was just about able to breathe.

He very carefully lowered his hand and unhooked a pocket on his belt.

"This time, Barnes," Pierce hissed by Bucky's ear as he dragged him to the ledge, "you'll stay dead."

Bucky removed the taser from his pocket. "Maybe," he rasped, flicking the button on the taser, "but you're coming with me, asshole."

He pressed the taser into Pierce's ribs. Pierce let out a garbled cry as he was shocked, and tumbled over the ledge. The whip, tangled around them both, pulled Bucky down too.

Bucky reached out with his other hand as Steve ran to him.

"Bucky, no!" Steve shouted: the last thing Bucky heard as he fell, icy wind rushing past him as he tumbled through the air.

Pierce was still conscious, and tried to grapple with him weakly. Bucky snarled and twisted around to punch Pierce square in the face to knock him out. They were falling fast, and Bucky had to untangle himself from Pierce.

The Christmas tree and its lights came into view: the detonation box directly below.

Bucky took a hold of the whip's handle and snapped the whip out, managing to snag a branch in the Christmas tree. He kicked Pierce in the gut as they separated: Pierce plummeting down and Bucky swinging into the tree. He closed his eyes and curled up to protect himself as he smashed into the branches, baubles and fairy lights tinkling with the impact.

Bucky let go of the whip and tried to get his foot on a solid branch. He had to jump clear before Pierce hit that detonator.

He glanced down just as Pierce's body landed on the box.

"Shit," Bucky breathed, and leapt from the tree as the explosion went off, fire rolling upwards.

 

 

~

 

 

Steve didn't make it to the ground in time to stop the explosion. He watched from the fire escape he was climbing down and had to use his shield to protect himself from the flying debris.

"Jarvis!" Steve shouted into his Comm, "I need fire and rescue at my location."

"On their way now, Captain," Jarvis replied. "Are you hurt?"

"Not yet." Steve gritted his teeth and continued the climb down. The whole square was alight, the Christmas tree up in flames.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted as he got onto the ground. "Bucky!"

He ran over to the tree, as close as the flames and smoke would allow him. Steve shielded his eyes against the heat as he tried to see, but it was no use.

"Bucky," he uttered, his heart clenching. "Bucky, no..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Nine Lives, Lived Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to say another huge thank you to Stucky4Breakfast (NachoDiablo) for beta reading this! <3
> 
> ~

 

 

Fire and rescue put out the flames, aided by Iron Man and War Machine.

They found the body of Alexander Pierce fused to a homemade I.E.D. at the base of the now-torched Christmas tree. He was dead.

Tony and Rhodey flew around the scene, searching for anyone else, but they couldn't detect anyone.

Steve didn't know what to tell them, or what to do. If Bucky hadn't survived that blast then his body would turn up sooner or later, under debris perhaps.

But if he _had_ survived, he was nowhere to be found.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. "Bucky, I really hope you're okay," he said to himself.

He stayed as long as he could, before the authorities took over and any Avengers had to take a step back unless they were called for. The fires were out, and at this point it was left to the cleanup crew that Tony called in.

"I'll get Stark Industries to cover it," Tony told Steve after. "That way if they find anything, they'll let me know. But I'll send the bill to Pierce's company."

"Whatever's left of it after the city council are done with him," Steve said.

Tony nodded, then clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Go home, Cap. Take the night off."

"Yeah, I will," Steve said, then waited until Tony and Rhodey flew off before saying quietly to himself, "I just have one stop to make first."

 

Thanks to a bit of digging from Jarvis, Steve got Bucky's home address, and went over there.

He hoped he'd find Bucky at home, but when Steve let himself in through an open window, he was only greeted by dozens of cats meowing at him.

"Hey, shush," Steve said, trying to quiet them.

The cats meowed noisily and wound themselves round his feet, almost tripping him up.

"Can't be stealth with you guys around," Steve muttered, and carefully walked to the kitchen area. "Guess you're all hungry?"

He rooted around for some cat food, and got a hungry pack of cats around him as he put the food dishes down on the floor.

As they ate, Steve counted how many cats there were, and got to fourteen.

"Jeez," he whispered. "Fourteen cats?"

While the cats were occupied, Steve quickly looked through the apartment, checking it was clear.

Bucky wasn't home, but Steve didn't want to leave. He set down his shield, and sat on the couch.

He'd just... wait for Bucky, he decided. Help Bucky if he was injured, and talk to him. They'd work it out.

There'd been no word from Tony yet about finding anyone else at the scene. So where was Bucky?

Steve exhaled, and almost jumped in alarm when a small black cat appeared on the couch cushion beside him.

"Oh, hey, there," he said. "You startled me."

The cat watched him with bright yellow eyes, and mewed softly.

Steve held out his hand for the cat to sniff. "What's your name, huh?"

The cat wasn't interested in sniffing him, so Steve went to tickle his neck instead. The cat allowed it, and as he had a red collar on with a little silver tag, Steve carefully turned it around so he could read.

" _Honey_ , huh? That your name?"

The cat looked at him expectantly, then without warning got onto Steve's lap.

"Oh." Steve held his arms up, not used to cats or what they did. "You're, um. Well, alright." He pushed his legs together to give the cat a solid surface to sit on, and smiled fondly as the cat curled up and closed his eyes.

Steve looked around as more cats came up to the couch, some sniffing at his hands and some rubbing against his boots.

"Guess I'll just... sit here," Steve said, and rested his head against the cushions.

 

He thought he'd only closed his eyes for a moment, but when Steve woke up again it was early morning, the light peeping through the curtains.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing at his face. He was so _warm_. Steve looked around and saw he was completely covered in cats, having shifted to lay on his back in his sleep, and now he had about five cats all along his body, and more cats sitting on the back of the couch watching him.

"Boy," Steve said, and decided he'd have to stay as he was for the time being. "Um, Jarvis?" he said, moving his wrist to speak into his Comms. "Any word from Tony about last night with Pierce?"

"No news, Captain," Jarvis replied. "One confirmed dead, Alexander Pierce. No other bodies discovered. The square is now contained and safe, with clean up almost complete."

"Okay," Steve sighed. "Thanks, Jarvis."

"You're welcome, Captain."

Steve looked at the ceiling for a moment, and heard a few of the cats mewing, probably in response to hearing his voice.

"Jarvis?" Steve said again. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Can you have a delivery sent to my location, of cat food, _lots_ of cat food, and some basic groceries? I think... I may wait here a while."

"Of course, Captain," Jarvis replied. "You should receive the delivery within the next hour."

"Thanks," Steve said, and started to pet the black cat who was sleeping on his chest. "Well, Honey," he murmured, stroking the cat's head, "I'll wait here and see if your owner comes home, if that's okay with you?"

The cat looked at Steve and then blinked his eyes shut. He looked like he was smiling, so Steve tickled him around the chin.

"You're a cutie," Steve told him. "I wouldn't have thought of myself as a cat person, but I'm starting to see the appeal."

 

 

~

 

 

At nightfall, Bucky watched his apartment from the roof of a neighboring building. All seemed quiet, just as he'd left it over twenty-four hours ago.

Either Steve hadn't told the cops about him, or Steve didn't know where he lived.

_Yet_.

Bucky knew he'd have to cover his tracks soon, now Steve had found out who he was. But, first things first: he had to go feed all those hungry mouths inside.

Bucky hooked the bag around his shoulder as he leapt over to the next building, landing neatly on the roof. He climbed down the fire escape silently, only the soft creaking of his leathers giving him away.

He got to his own fire escape, and the window he'd left ajar for the stray cats to come and go. Bucky listened, but heard nothing inside save for a soft mewing. Couple of the cats playing or chatting, perhaps.

He deemed it safe, and quietly lifted the window and stuck one leg inside. Bucky took the bag off his shoulder, holding it in hand as he climbed indoors and stood on his feet.

"Honey," he called softly, "I'm home."

He expected his cat, and all the others, to come running up to him as they'd done every night since they'd all moved in.

But the cats stayed in their spots, watching and waiting. Some of their tails twitched, and Bucky's senses picked up on the strange presence. He dropped the bag and whirled around, claws out.

A strong hand caught his wrist, stopping him, and Bucky's jaw dropped as he realised it was Steve.

"Hey, honey," Steve said with a smirk. "Glad you're home safe and sound."

"Steve!" Bucky pulled his hand free and swatted him on the shoulder. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry." Steve shrugged. "Could say the same for you, falling off a building and walking out of an explosion."

"Yes, well." Bucky shifted nervously. "About that..."

Steve held up a hand. "I don't care. Well, I mean, I _do_ , but I'm just glad you're safe. Now, please tell me that you don't have any other dramatic and deadly vendettas to fulfill, and you won't be blowing anything else up?"

Bucky pretended to do a thinking face, and smiled when he saw Steve frown. "Jeez, lighten up. No, I'm done... for now?"

"Bucky."

"Well, I _do_ need a job," Bucky said, turning away and trotting over to the couch. He sank down onto the cushions and let out a weary sigh. "I'm unemployed, and I hear hitmen earn a good wage."

"Bucky." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. Just... look, if you want a job beating up bad guys, then come and work with me."

Bucky snorted, and petted a cat that came up to butt her head against his arm. "You and your team of do-gooders?"

"Yes," Steve said, hands on his hips now.

And, Bucky noticed that Steve was wearing some of Bucky's clothes: an old t-shirt and some sweats.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You been here a while, Steve?"

"Yes, and I fed your army of cats, too," he said. "Seriously, join my team. Or join someone else's team if you don't want to work directly with me, but join us. You seem to be pretty strong and have a knack for not getting killed, so you have what it takes. Plus, it's a good salary."

"Hm." Bucky side eyed Steve. "I'm not so good at working with other people."

"Honestly," Steve chuckled, "you'll fit right in. Most of them want to do their own thing and we don't always see eye to eye, but somehow we make it work."

"Hm, maybe." Bucky patted the cushion beside him. "Maybe you should try to convince me."

Steve blinked at him in surprise, then shrugged and walked over. "I can do that," he said, sitting down and leaning into Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head back on the cushions, lips pursed and awaiting a kiss.

"No more blowing things up?" Steve murmured, his lips mere inches away.

Bucky shook his head minutely. "Yeah, I'm good. For this Christmas, anyway."

Steve pressed a kiss to his lips, brief and soft.

"If you _are_ good," Steve said, pulling back with a grin, "I'll even get someone to look after all your cats."

"Like a cat butler?" Bucky grinned.

"Sure, why not," Steve said. "I know a few interns."

 

 

~

 

 

_Three months later_

 

 

"So, how's your new recruit settling in?" Sam asked, taking off his goggles as Steve sat next to him inside the Quinjet.

"Yeah, pretty good," Steve said, and set his shield down. "He's been working with Nat mostly, and Tony."

"I've heard," Sam chuckled.

They both leaned back in their seats and let out tired sighs.

The mission had been a success, and now Clint was flying them back to the Avengers compound.

"Can't wait for a long, hot bath," Steve muttered.

"You coming to movie night later?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I've gotta go home and check on the cats first."

"Man, you and those cats."

Steve shrugged. "What can I say. They're cute."

"Yeah, but you don't need a hundred of them, Steve."

"There isn't a hundred," Steve laughed.

Ever since a couple of the cats had had kittens, the population had sort of exploded. The Avengers compound now had plenty of cats in the living quarters, with their very own vetinary assistant on call. Steve had decided to work with a city charity for stray cats, who worked on looking after strays and finding homes for them.

Steve also had plans to open a rescue home for animals, but he hoped he wouldn't be doing it alone.

When they touched down at the compound, Steve said goodbye to Sam and Clint for now, and went off to shower and change. He checked in with his messages: nothing urgent, but he'd be back later that evening anyway.

Steve put on his bike gear, and took his bike into the city.

His apartment felt a lot more lived in now: fully decorated, even though a lot of the décor had scratch marks all over it.

One downside to cat ownership. On the plus side, it meant when Steve let himself into his home, there was always a welcoming committee of furry faces mewing their greetings at him.

"Hello," Steve said, bending down to pet the cats who'd come to see him, including Bucky's first cat, Honey.

Some of the other cats hung back, but some were more shy than others. Steve just let them do their thing: there was a kitty door on the back porch, where the cats could go outside if they wanted.

He went through to the kitchen and put down new food, the most eager cats all butting heads to get to the bowls first.

"Calm down," Steve told them, "you'll all get a turn."

Steve made himself a coffee and took it through to the lounge. The Christmas tree wasn't up any more, being March, but in its place there was a multi-level cat climbing tree, so the cats could perch and look out the window.

Steve sat on the couch and breathed in deeply.

If Bucky wasn't back from his mission soon, he'd just head back to the compound for movie night on his own. No biggie.

Steve got the comforter, and a couple of the cats jumped onto his lap eagerly, curling up and purring. It was so relaxing, Steve dozed off petting them.

 

When he woke up, something a lot heavier than a cat was sliding into his lap.

Steve stirred, opening his eyes as the cats scattered, and his lap was full of Bucky instead.

Steve grinned, and wound his arms around Bucky's waist. "You're back early."

"What can I say," Bucky smiled in turn, "Romanov and I make a good team."

"Success?" Steve asked, tilting his face up for a kiss.

"Resounding." Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve's lips, and smirked wickedly. "This job is kinda fun."

"See, I told you," Steve said with a chuckle. "Now. What do you say about movie night at the compound? Bit of team bonding?"

"Mm," Bucky purred, grinding his ass down onto Steve, "we could do our own team bonding right here."

"Mm," Steve murmured back, then glanced at the side of the couch where a cat was sitting, watching them. "Uh, Buck."

"What?"

"C'mon. Not in front of the cats. Let's go upstairs."

"There's gonna be cats asleep on the bed," Bucky pointed out, kissing along Steve's jaw.

"Damn," Steve cursed quietly. "Where else..."

"Well..." Bucky drew back to smile. "I haven't showered yet..."

Bucky was still in his catsuit, new and improved with extra Stark tech, but still tight, shiny and black. Steve loved it. He also loved nothing better than to peel Bucky out of it.

He grinned. "Shower, then." He made to get up, holding onto Bucky and planning to carry him upstairs, but Bucky only laughed and sprung off his lap.

"Race you!" he called, taking off up the stairs.

Steve was already unbuttoning his shirt, and called back, "I'm sure you already won!"

And that was just fine by him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and (nice!) comments fuel me!
> 
> The wonderful Frostbitebakery has done amazing art of cat-bucky, for Crow's birthday: [see it here on tumblr](http://frostbitebakery.tumblr.com/post/179392569851/meow-for-jro616s-story-feline-fatale-happy). 
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://jro616.tumblr.com).
> 
> (P.s. this is basically Crack Treated Seriously, like the movie. And like the movie, there is no explanation for basically anything that happens, or why cat powers happen, so my advice is just enjoy it!)


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